I like my bedroom. No one else does but so what? Last year I painted it bright red. And I have these cool metallic blinds. I have lots of posters on my walls – Britney and Beyonce and Eminem. I have motorbike posters and football posters. I have even got a few art posters – pop art ones like Lichtenstein. I have a Bridget Riley one that looks like one of those magic eye paintings. You wouldn’t want to look at it if you were drunk. I got drunk last week on rotgut cider. I never ever want to do that again. It felt like my life was ending the next day. I didn’t know vomit came in so many different colours. The art posters may sound a bit strange but I like art, I am good at drawing. I want to go to art school and be a cartoonist. They think I am going into Dad’s detective business. No way! I may have helped out in the past but that’s over now.

Maybe I should just go to bed. I am obviously not getting out of here tonight. I think I probably went too far for that. I really thought my Dad was going to hit me, he looked so …mad! I know he’s been itching to do it for days. Every time we’ve been anywhere near each other, in fact!

Oh, where are my pyjamas? Can’t be bothered going to clean my teeth or pee. Perhaps I’ll just read one of my comics. I like my comics. Of course, he doesn’t read comics. He wouldn’t, would he? He is such a geek! He reads textbooks for fun!! This one will do. A Simpsons one. Cool! A family even more dysfunctional than ours!

Right-oh, where’s my bed? Got to be under these clothes somewhere. I’m sure it was here this morning (Ha! Ha!), I got out of it then, right?

Well, no…not exactly.

I got out of his bed… 

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I hadn’t slept too well, woke up a bit sniffly. Maybe I am catching a cold as my eyes were a bit watery. Then my bed was in a bit of a mess with the sheets everywhere. I couldn’t be bothered making my bed at 2 in the morning so I went into his room. Gave him a bit of a shove and he rolled over to make some room for me. When I woke up this morning my eyes were really puffy – I bet he’s had that fleabag cat sleeping on his bed again…

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Anyway, I’ve found my bed. Can’t be bothered with the comic after all. I know it is still early but I’m just going to go to sleep and get this day over with. Then he can go on his precious computer course and everyone can just leave me in peace!

I turn off the light.

Click.

I turn the light back on.

Too dark.

The streetlight outside isn’t working. I’m not too keen on the dark. Stupid, I know. But I just can’t help it. I see too many things. Crazy that, seeing as it is dark. The monsters moved out from under my bed long ago, now it’s flames and the smell of burning flesh that torture my nights. These new demons, casting their shadows, sucking out the light.

So, I usually end up in his room and somehow he puts the light back for me. Those shadows don’t stand a chance.

I don’t know how to do that.

By myself.